Zandian Pet (Zandian Masters 7)

More.

She wanted more from him.

He obliged. Another smack of leather caught the undersides of her cheeks, sending her clawing for the edge of the bench. The strap jostled the tail in her ass, adding a level of squirmy sensation to the pain. Not quite pleasure, but heat and desire coiling together into potentiality.

She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her throat.

Prium stood at the door, watching the punishment with a smug smile.

Suddenly, with such a delicious, worthy master standing behind her, respecting Prium became impossible. She childishly wanted to make a face or an obscene gesture with her hands. He was nothing compared to the male wielding the strap.

The tawse slapped across her buttocks again and again, and she dropped her forehead to the bench, forcing herself to breathe through the burn and pain. On and on her temporary master went, spanking her thoroughly with the forked paddle until tears smarted her eyes.

After at least a dozen strokes, the Zandian dropped the tawse and fisted her hair, pulling her head back roughly. He brought his face down to hers, brows knit, mouth turned down. “I’m sorry.”

Her heart fluttered. He’d grated the words directly in her ear in Zandian, the language she hadn’t heard in fifteen years.

~.~

Anger at having to hurt his beautiful female coursed through his veins. Yes, he was calling her his female, even though she was nothing of the kind. She belonged to him for this moment. He’d been named her master, and he intended to treat her with the care and protection a master provided his charge.

With his lips at her temple, her scent assaulted him. Not the scent of her arousal—stars, he smelled that, too, and it nearly turned him into wild beast. But she smelled like Zandia. Like home. Like honeyflowers and morning dew. The joy and wild pleasure of his youth. Of his first discovery of a female’s lush body.

He had to stop himself from nipping her ear, or dragging his mouth down her neck. Tasting her.

His female’s legs and bottom shook from her punishment, but stars, his body trembled too—like the very cells vibrated being near her. The effort of keeping his lust in check proved too great.

But he couldn’t show his attraction. Not now, not here. And, somehow, he had to get out of this cell without vecking her. She was a Zandian, not some human slave. Even more, she was the daughter of one of Zander’s most respected advisors. Master Seke would kill him if he debauched her.

Still holding her pale hair in a rough grip, he hauled her upright. Her bare, striped ass nested against his legs, sending a fresh shudder of desire through him. The heat from her well-spanked flesh radiated through his trousers, and his cock lurched against her back.

Veck if she didn’t mold her back to his front, arching those perky breasts up like an offering. He wanted to fill his hand

with those breasts, pinch and rub her nipples until she squirmed.

But he had a wretched audience. Not just Prium, but a lounge full of assholes had gathered in front of their cell to watch him punish Tara. Or Mina, as she went by here.

And if he wanted to get her out of this place, he needed to blend in. Just a typical customer, here to use and abuse a slave. So he made a show of shoving Mina down to her knees. She dropped obediently into a submissive posture, palms on her thighs, eyes lifted to him, as if waiting for his command.

Fury that she’d been trained this way didn’t outweigh the surge of lusty power and pleasure the sight of her naked at his feet brought.

The door to the cell swished closed, and the asswipe, Prium, left, apparently satisfied with her punishment.

Mina studied him with long-lashed blue-violet eyes. He had to catch his breath at her beauty. Her father’s irises were the same unusual color, but on her, it was exquisite.

He hoped she’d understood him when he apologized.

When the warrior Tomis found her sister, Talia, she had forgotten their planet and language entirely. She’d blacked out everything that had happened to her before being put into slavery. Erick hoped the same wasn’t true for Mina.

He sank onto the bench. His fingers started to curl into fists to keep from touching her, but he forced them to relax. To hide his mounting need to throw her down and veck her until her teeth rattled, he channeled his desire into rage and glared down at her.

Her beautiful eyes widened, confusion flitting over her face. She licked her lips, and he tightened his to keep in a groan. Her gaze darted to his horns. They felt taut, and surely were leaning toward her. Did she know what that meant? Did she remember how the males of her species showed their interest?

It was easy to gauge hers. Despite her captivity and the forced nature of their interaction, her nipples were hard as the points of crystals, the scent of her arousal a heady perfume.

She rose to her knees and stroked her slender hands up his thighs, sultry invitation in the softness of her face. Holy Zandian star, she was about to suck his cock.

He frowned, and she froze. She was well-trained. That shouldn’t turn him on so much, but it did. He loved her responsiveness.